


Mystery Girl

by SilverKidia



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, F/M, Mild Smut, POV First Person, South Park: The Fractured But Whole, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 01:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12495728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverKidia/pseuds/SilverKidia
Summary: She's in town for years, and yet no one knows her name. We've been calling her the New Kid for years, and she's still a mystery to most of us. She's even fighting crime at night. As mystery incarnate, I must know who she is. For South Park's sake, and for my balls' sake.(Based on The Fractured But Whole + kids are teens)





	Mystery Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the pun but at 3 am, I have no creativity.

It’s been seven years.

She moved in South Park without making much noise; we barely heard her voice, if not at all, for days and days. Her parents were running away from bad guys, and she had no clue what was going on. She had no clue about her powers, she was just sent out in town by her parents, hoping she would make friends the normal way, to only have her powers catch up with her. An impossible never-ending fate, a curse flowing like smoke to never be contained.

She and I aren’t so different.

We thought her butt was amazing. We thought she had marvelous farting powers. As that motherfucking Cartman tried to shatter our town for fame, she tricked time with gases alone, and she became renowned through all town for the control of her rectum. She had millions of followers, all town knew her powers, and yet, not only no one knew her name, we didn’t even knew she was a girl.

Apparently Mr. Mackey knew, but that was at a time when we wouldn’t listen to what he would say about genders.

I’m mystery incarnated, but she was a bigger mystery that I’d ever be. It was as if we didn’t even know the color of her skin. Was she really a girl back then? What if she was actually a boy? I could swear that she spoke like a boy back when we destroyed the Stick of Truth, back when she farted on my balls, yet… the doubt, man. The doubt. It eats you alive. What a fucking mystery.

It was funny. Now that I think about it, we called her ‘The New Kid’ for years, never knowing her real name, never realizing she was a girl. Apparently, Wendy knew everything about her all along, her name, her gender, her whole identity, but I suppose that’s no surprise. Wendy’s a fucking stalker dude. She’ll find all the nasty stuff you’ve been trying to hide, even if that happened before the Internet crashed.

So, how did we even realized she was a girl? I remember it as if it was yesterday. It was middle school. The place where hormones boil up and becomes the weirdest shit ever. Popular kids becoming pizza faces, other kids becoming stars and making everyone drop like flies. A fun time of my life, truly. All I did of my days back then was masturbate furiously. As in, more than usual. Way more than usual.

Funny times, really. Stan became hot and popular, Kyle became a nerd and resentful, Cartman became thinner and nicer, Craig and Tweek became real homosexuals, and so on. Jimmy was the first one who puberty hit, but Butters’ was the most noticeable, as he looked way older and started getting tricked by high school girls. Clyde’s balls were the last to drop, so his confidence became non-existent, just like the number of girls willing to speak to him.

Of course, I’ll never forget that one day she walked into school. Now we were already furiously masturbating to girls for a while now (except Clyde cuz he was a fucking crybaby). Some girls were already growing nice tits, and while we would all tell Stan that we’d never jerk off to his girl’s tits, we certainly all did. But none of the girls were as hot as the New Kid, on that day.

She suddenly became a rebellious kid, going the generic South Park’s boys’ style to a tight white tank top, with those really thin straps. Everyone could see the bright purple bra she had under it, making any doubts about the existence of her girly chest disappear. She could have choose to wear jeans, shorts, a skirt even, but no; she wore yoga pants. Grey yoga pants. So thin that you could see her skin through it. As well as the green thong she was wearing, the strap in her back hiding between her magnificent ass cheeks. She wore her hair loose, longer, in purple and green streaks, cheeky purple glasses with a flower design giving her the hottest sultry look I’ve ever seen.

“Um, Ms. Terius, you need to cover your shoulders. You are… distracting the other students,” said the principal, sweating nervously as he saw her walking down the hallways. She froze, paused then lowered her glasses to look over them at him, a sight that gave me a furious boner.

“Are you slut-shaming me?” she asked, feigning perfect indignity, and the principal burst out in a flurry of words to defend himself, in a full panic mode. I didn’t know what happened after that because I went in the toilets to jerk off, but she attended the whole year dressed in similar fashion and we got a new principal the day after. And every day, I’d jerk off to whatever she was wearing. And trust me, whatever she wore, it was hot as fuck. I wish she wore more skirts; sadly, she always had her legs covered up. A real shame, if you ask me.

Now of course, since I would masturbate at least five times daily at school, I’d usually sleep in classes, and stay up at nights. Like I told her, back in that fucking mess with Cartman’s hand, I was the only kid ― person ― in the town that would fight crimes. I was the only one with actual powers ― minus her ― and the only one with the will and sense of justice to fight at night. No one else cared about the town, no one else had the strength to fight, no one had the will to put their lives in danger and sacrifice themselves, their ego worth more than their aspiration to selfless heroism. I’ve been Mysterion for years, and it wasn’t her fucking ass that would stop me.

South Park is a corrupted town. The evil flows into it like drugs in addicts, and smoother than lube on my dick. When you think you’re finally seeing it through, a new enemy rises up. My work as Mysterion is never-ending, and while it doesn’t pay dinner, it pays my consciousness. When I shatter thugs’ jaws, I think of Karen. When I break masterminds’ spines, I see her smile. When thieves slid out of my grip, I fear for her happiness. I put my heart and my soul in this job, throwing away my death like my moldy socks for the safety of this town. They might say that they don’t deserve it, but a mere thought for my beloved reminds me that I’m doing this for the good reasons. The Coon wanted fame, the kids wanted to have fun, I wanted a better place for all of us. My sister first, my friends second, and every citizen third.

And what of her? The New Kid? Where did she stand in all of this?

Middle school was a hard time for Mysterion. Puberty’s a fucking bitch when you’re trying to have a threatening voice. It’d fucking break all the time, my body not answering my impulsions like it used to anymore. I’d be completely out of coordination, as if I was trading speed for strength, something I was having a hard time to deal with. My arms would feel as if they were too long and my legs too short. I had to change my costumes so many times, it completely broke me down.

Wendy was a godsend for me in that matter; while she didn’t have powers, she was so hungry for justice that she would also fight along me. Of course, she wasn’t up in front. I’d never allow her to. And neither would her parents. Stan would also probably kill me if I had let her to. But Wendy had what I didn’t; money. Of course, she wasn’t Token, but she knew how to blackmail him if she wanted money. She had access to computers. And she knew how to sew. She was my Oracle, and still is up to this day. She hacks for me, she makes costumes for me with Bebe’s help, she keeps me up to date, and she even gears me up. She asks Stan to make some gadgets for me, she tells me how to keep my phone and my computer up to date, I could never ask for a better partner than her. Discrete, unseen, unknown; Stan doesn’t even know he’s working for me. He thinks he just helps his girlfriend with her fancy ideas, and can’t be bothered to ask why she thinks of these blueprints.

And the New Kid?

The New Kid was the only other kid in town with powers. Powers that Wendy wanted, surely. And I’m sure she got them. It took me a while to realize it, but Wendy wasn’t working for me alone. She wasn’t even working “for” me, but “with” me. And the New Kid was her second partner. I’m not entirely sure why it happened. Did the New Kid had a sense of justice? I have no fucking clue. She’s a complete mystery to everyone. Obviously, Wendy’s using her followers, but how did their partnership even started? Maybe it never ended after that Mitch’s fiasco?

So, how did I knew that the New Kid was also fighting crime?

She put her fucking ass in my face.

I was fighting yet another cartel, some fucking Mexicans hired by a Russian working for the Italians. Like every night, I was ready to die; these motherfuckers had guns, explosives, swords, hammers, shuriken, whips, needles, screws, name it. I have no fucking clue why they had all that shit, why the fuck for, but they had it. I knew I was gonna die, but I was not going down without a good fight. I don’t just throw my life out there for nothing; a thought for my sister, a memory of Karen crying, alone and cold, and it’s enough to kick my adrenaline into miracles. I’ll parry a motherfucking light saber, anything to stop them for hurting South Park.

And to my biggest surprise, three years ago, I had this wonderful ass drop into my face right as those Mexicans were firing their guns and throwing their shuriken (I’d learn later that they were also hired to be ninja). She threw me onto the roof, blinding me in the strap of her spandex leotard trapped between her ass cheeks, forcing me into submission. And as if nothing happened, she jolted toward them, kicking high up in their chins. And that’s when I realized I was seeing her bare legs for the first time of my life.

She was wearing a purple leotard, similar to Call Girl’s, the design prepping up her tits, with long white gloves and white high heels. No. Fucking. Skirts. Her ass was in full naked glory, and I’m sure if I’ve been in the safety of my house, I would have explode in gallons of cum. And of course, she had her slutty glasses in juxtaposition to a purple cat mask ― you know, those that hide nothing but makes everyone confuse about your identity either way. Of course, I came so many times over my mental picture of her butt that I’d instantly knew it was her by its sight alone.

She seemed to favor kicks over punches, much to my delight; her style of fighting truly put her ass to work, making it shine, both as a figure of speech and from sweat. I was simply too astonished to have an erection at that moment, but when I came back home that night, I didn’t even check on Karen; I fapped until it was time for school. She kicked those Mexicans to oblivion, then vanished instantly into the night, mysterious as ever. She puts my name to shame. She does my job, she saves my non-valuable life then she makes me jerk off all day and night long. Fucking cunt.

Wendy and I talked at school only when it was a social necessity. I would contact her only by phone, or at night. She was almost always the one who would reach me. In fact, I don’t think I ever remember contacting her at school before or even after, that one day. She seemed as shocked as I was, seeing how she glanced at me in the cafeteria as she read my text.

“While I’m glad that you’re saving me from an argument between Kyle and Stan, this isn’t like you to contact me like this. What’s going on?” she said like a bossy mom, arms crossed, as she dragged me in a recluse corner of the school.

“The New Kid. I saw her last night, in a superhero costume.”

“Yes, I know that,” she replied with an annoyed tone, as if telling that I interrupted her for no reasons.

“You knew? What else you knew?”

“Chill, Kenny! No need to act like a superhero here!” she snapped back at me. “She’s just out in the streets like you. I don’t know why, it’s not like we’re friends, you know! She’s not like… you know, you. She doesn’t do anything crazy dangerous―”

“Anything crazy dangerous? Wendy, she saved my life against people armed to the teeth. People who could have instantly killed her. And she knows my powers!”

“And so do you,” she replied back with a frown. “You also know what she can do with… those farts! She’s just as powerful as you are!”

“Why? Why save me? It doesn’t add up!”

“Well, why don’t you fucking ask her then? I told you, I’m not her friend! Why the fuck should I know about her?” she almost yelled, furious for a reason or another. She sighed with exasperation, let out an “Ugh!” then went back to her boyfriend’s arms. I guess she was on her period that day.

But really? Contact the New Kid? The girl who has the whole school at her feet, all her followers dying to have a fucking selfie with her, no matter if it’s just a hair of her or even her shit? I didn’t even know her name!

A complete mystery.

And Wendy seemed to say that the New Kid was at it for a while. And I learned it only that day? How come? How could I been so ignorant about what was going on in my town?

Until the time I met her again, I couldn’t masturbate a single time.

“Kenny, this isn’t you. You have been attending all the classes with perfect attention. What’s the matter?”

That was when I realized Cartman was becoming nicer. Sure, he had shown ‘concern’ before, but it was the first time it felt honest.

“How’s your girlfriend, dickhead, still manipulating you?” I replied back, thinking he was being nice because Heidi was telling him to do so. Kid turned around, looked at Heidi who was cheerfully eating with her girlfriends, then looked back at me.

“Ah, I see, you’re having girls issues. It’s okay Kenny, you can talk to me about it.”

“It’s…”

“No no, I insist, you can tell me anything, I know how girls are.”

“I…”

“Trust me on this, Kenny, really. I must say, I’m happy that you are getting interested in girls. I really am.”

“I guess it is girls issues…” I sighed. Cartman rose an eyebrow, as if he was surprised that he was right. The fatass probably knew that I knew a lot more about girls than he’d ever will. Well… I knew a lot more about sex. I suppose he had more ‘relationship’ experience than I did. Still, Cartman didn’t exactly strike as the advice guy. And yet, there was no one else I’d talk to.

“Does anyone know anything about the New Kid?”

“Douchebag? Well, she’s a girl now,” stated Cartman as he looked for her in the cafeteria. Once he could lay his gaze on her, he instantly lost interest. “What do you even want to know about her?”

“Well, her name would be a good start.”

Cartman stared at me blankly, as if he had no idea of what I was talking about.

“Why the sudden interest?”

“It’s not sud― it’s just― we’ve been calling her the New Kid for like four years already, how come we don’t know her name?”

“Beats me. All I know is that she got a great ass. I’m pretty sure that’s why everyone follows her.”

“See? We all follow her, yet we know fuck all anything about her!”

“Well, Kenny, I’m not a stalker. I don’t want to know everything about her. I mean, she got a great ass, what else do you want?”

“Her name, Cartman, her fucking name, that’s what I want,” I replied angrily, leaving him puzzled at my table as I stood up and walked towards her table. But then an army of followers magically blocked my path, as if they sensed my intentions and decided I was a threat. I tried all angles, they just gathered into a thick barrier, and I had no intentions to create a scene over a sweet ass.

“You need to pull yourself up together, Mysterion,” scolded me that night Call Girl, her eyebrows frowning at me through my screen. I sighed. “There’s a new group rising up in South Park, and if we don’t do something, bad things are gonna happen.”

“Who are they?” I demanded with my threatening voice, cracking again.

“It’s those Mexicans hired by a Russian working for the Italians; apparently, the Italians were hired by Koreans to gather an army of ninja to fight against the Chinese to gain power over the Japanese.”

“Why ninjas?”

“The Koreans think the Chinese can’t handle them and that the Japanese will feel too ashamed for losing against Mexican ninjas.”

I rubbed my head. That was a big headscratcher. While I could beat up Mexican ninjas for weeks and weeks, it would never solve the issue as there was countless amounts of Mexican immigrants looking to be hired for anything. I could beat up the Russian, but the Italians would just hire a new one. I could beat up the Italians, but the Koreans could just hire Mexicans directly. I felt as if I was missing a clue ― as if we were missing a clue.

“What about the New Kid?”

“What about her?” replied instantly Call Girl.

“She’s also working on this, isn’t she? Surely you can contact her. Surely you can ask her what she knows about this.”

Call Girl stared back at me for a long moment, as if she was considering me, considering my worth, my judgement, as if she was asking herself if I was trustworthy.

“Go to the top of the SoDoSoPa’s ruins. She’ll meet you there,” told me Call Girl before ending the call. I looked at the screen for a few seconds before lowering my arm. And after a few seconds froze into that position, I looked over to the ruins, near my house. That was when I realized there was something going on between these two, and that there was nothing I could do about it. That New Kid was an active superhero. A rival? An ally? A foe? Was she my Catwoman or my Poison Ivy?  While I knew she was playing as a Plantmancer/Assassin when we were kids, I’d rather have be a Black Widow, because Scarlett Johansson’s ass in that suit is fucking great.

I hid in the shadows of the ruins, waiting for her to come. I was extremely nervous, as if I was meeting a crush, my heart pounding like crazy. I felt weak hanging at the top, but I knew how to be patient. She eventually came. Like when we were kids, I felt that urge to protect her like I protect my sister; her naked ass looked like it was freezing. So little clothes… and yet she was looking so hot. She was throwing glances here and there, looking for me without finding me. How precious. She was wide open; I could easily beat her into submission if she was ever to betray me.

I dropped to her level, behind her, and she looked over her shoulder, her purple hair shielding her eyes. I slowly walked toward her, somewhat hoping that she would face me, but also somewhat happy that she was letting me see her ass in its full glory.

“What do you know about the Mexican ninjas?” I asked with my threatening voice, cracking. She stood still, never speaking a word as usual. I continued until I was standing right behind her, her soft butt barely brushing my crotch. She still wasn’t moving.

“Answer me,” I demanded with the same tone, sans cracking. She still didn’t move, not saying anything. I got a little bit closer, her back now touching my chest. I was surprised by how calm I was at that moment, as if I was fully into my character, my animal instincts vanished, the call of duty filling up my veins. I opened my mouth, but couldn’t find something to say. I simply breathed into her hair, intoxicating myself with the perfume of her shampoo. Ah… What a luxury to have soap every month…

She leaned back on me, resting her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around herself, almost shivering from the cold winter air. I instinctively surrounded her with my arms, covering her with my cape, learning my face into her neck. Our breaths heat up, hurried up while she closed her eyes, slightly moaning. I was fighting strong urges to not devour her neck, to not suck the fuck out of her skin.

She parted my arms a little so that she could spin around to face me, tossing her arms around my neck. Her young yet already full breasts were pressed against my chest, her leg sliding against mine. Her glasses were tilted down, and she looked up at me over them, her eyes half-closed, sparkling with what I felt was desire.

“It’s the Canadians,” she whispered as I was about to kiss her. I stopped at the last second, puzzled, before backing off a little.

“The Canadians?” She pressed herself against me so that she could get her lips closer to my ear, almost as if she was about to kiss it.

“They want the Asians to fuck with the USA so that they could become more important. Canada is becoming really important, really strong; they want all their competitors to die off by killing each other.”

“Why ninja?”

“Because both Asians and Americans love ninjas.”

“But what of the Mexicans?”

“Mexicans don’t fucking care. They are Canada’s allies; they are the bread of the sandwich that is North America.”

“How did you find this out?”

She parted away from me, pushing me back slightly so she could free herself from my embrace. She turned around, letting me see a last glance of her tasteful butt. She then looked over her shoulder, her hair still shielding her eyes, then jumped off the building. I rushed to the edge; she landed safely on the ground with the powers of her farts, then ran away.

I tried to masturbate that night, but duty filled my thoughts. Torn between what she said and what she did, I laid down like a wrecked mess of an addict crashing down until the sun rose up, and fell asleep, rocked by my thoughts of misery.

Like always, Call Girl contacted me first; I was about to tell her that the Canadians were up to something when Wendy linked me some big news; North Korea exploded themselves up, making it a big state of emergency. While President Garrison was tweeting like mad shit, the Canadians rushed over help, because China and Japan were fighting each other since Japan wanted them to acknowledge they were a victim. While they were getting into a war, the Mexican ninjas disappeared, and the town knew a brief moment of peace.

I wish I could say the same for me. Ever since that day… I never managed to jerk off. It’s been three years since that day, and while I can get hard, I can never finish off. Think about it. Three years. For a teenager. My balls are fucking purple at this point.

Of course, crime never dies in this town. I still fight criminals up to this day. Sometimes, it’s big crisis, but those are always short. Usually, it’s petty thieves, douchebags I beat up and deliver straight into the police station. Sometimes, they contact me or Call Girl to help them out with cases. I’m even receiving anonymous donations now, through virtual fundraising, and I managed to get my sister out of poverty. Outside my purple balls, my life is pretty normal.

And yet I still don’t know her name. No one knows. Only Wendy does, and yet even she refers to her as ‘the New Kid’. Even though we’re now in high school, all old teenagers, almost adults, we all know her as the ‘New Kid’. A real mystery.

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be an one-shot but... hopefully it will be a two-shot. I'm still not sure if second part will be full smut or mild smut.


End file.
